Dissonance
by GoldFountain
Summary: She'd sing for him once she was silenced. For Lady Paprika's Out of Character Contest.


**Dissonance**

* * *

It was during his yearly promenade through the kingdom's cities when he found her.

The King of Pop Star sat silently inside his horse-drawn carriage, propping his head up with a pudgy arm. A man of the utmost influence and wealth ruling the greatest kingdom in his family's history, it went without saying that the King could get anything he desired at the snap of a finger. Few of the nobles could even hope to compare to the King's affluence, and none were able to claim to have the same amount of service and power the King had.

Keeping his eyes looking straight ahead, the King only looked out of the window for an occasional moment before returning to his current position. Despite not having been in the port city of Ricco Harbor for so long, the King was not interested in seeing what had changed since his last visit. He never wanted to come to the harbor in the first place. But even the King had certain rules to follow. The only reason he took a trip around the kingdom at all was because he had a duty to uphold, as it was decreed by law that the King had to go to every town, village, and city in the kingdom at least once a year so as to maintain peace, image, and decorum.

That did not mean he ever enjoyed the trip. To the King, the cheers and cries of the commoners in his kingdom when his carriage went through their town neither interested nor appealed to him. He was their king, after all. They were meant to revere him; that was their sole purpose as the besotted animals of his divine kingdom. What other reason was there for him to pay them any attention at all if that weren't the case?

The carriage stopped in the middle of the port city's plaza for a brief rest stop. The King tapped his foot as per his standard behavior while the Toad coachman fixed the reins on the horses. While he waited, the King could hear the sounds of certain voices that were not part of his cheering crowd. Furrowing his eyebrows, the King flipped open the curtain so as to see what possible distraction could have kept these lowly folks' eyes away from his honorable presence.

There was a bustling crowd of well-dressed merchants and nobles with their backs faced toward him. The King could see in front on a raised wooden platform a line of people dressed in rags chained together by their wrists and ankles. Each person had a number written on the front of their burlap sacks for shirts and had their mouths covered with tape. In front of the platform was a short, pudgy man dressed in yellow overalls whacking a gavel against a podium as he tried to control the shouts of the frenzied crowd in front of him.

A slave market.

The King raised an eyebrow. His curiosity was now piqued. Right as the coachman was about to whip the horses, the King opened the window and told him to make a turn left. The coachman complied.

* * *

"And now, introducing lot number 39!" cried the official-sounding voice of the pudgy man."She's a fine specimen, a beautiful catch from the foreign land of Kanto with a mesmerizing voice to boot."

Standing on the stage was a woman with long, pink hair labeled #39. Like all of the other slaves on the platform, she was chained by her wrists and ankles and could not move her arms or legs. Standing close next to her was a small and frail looking girl labeled #174 with locks of hair the same shade of pink. Her eyes were puffy and fearful.

"She's said to be a woman with the voice of an angel, and that hearing one song of hers is sure enough to make you fall asleep," the greasy man continued. "Clearly a winner in all books! She's definitely a prized catch, so let's start the bid with 10,000 coins! Any takers?"

Before the auctioneer could accept any bids from the raucous crowd before him, a man declared in a deep voice:

"I offer one million."

The pudgy man's eyes bulged out of their sockets. He pointed at the direction of the voice with his gavel and shouted, "Who was that? Was that a real bid, now?!"

The crowd quickly parted down the middle to reveal the bidder: the King.

"I'll take her off your hands, if you don't mind," said the King, raising his head to look around at the other bidders. "Unless anyone else here is willing to pay more, I would assume that my bid is sufficient enough to qualify as a suitable buyout price."

The pudgy man blinked in disbelief. He quickly regained his composure.

"O-Oh, but of course, Your Highness! One million is more than enough! It is truly an honor to have you here at this auction. You have impeccable taste in choosing this fine young woman!" the pudgy man spluttered. He turned his head and angrily motioned for the guards to hand over the property.

As the guards walked up to the woman, she began to shake her head rapidly and huddle around the little girl next to her. One guard held the woman in place while the other unlocked the chains connecting her to the others in line. The woman's eyes widened in fear. She tried to scream, but any noise she might have made was muffled by the tape on her mouth. The guards began to pull her away from the platform, and the woman began to struggle.

Noticing that the woman would not come with him freely, the King snapped his fingers to call upon more guards. Immediately, two Waddle Dee guards came to the scene and relieved the other guards of their thrashing cargo.

The King tipped his hat in the direction of the pudgy man and followed his guards back into his carriage, while the woman was stored in the back compartment. When the coachman asked the King if he was ready to proceed with the trip, the King gave one last look at the raised platform. The pudgy man had already resumed the auction, and from what he could tell, the frail girl with the same pink hair was being sold at that moment. The King put a gloved hand to his chin in thought, but ultimately he nodded his head and ordered the coachman to continue.

A few hours later, the King arrived back at his castle.

* * *

When the guards warily took the woman out of the carriage, they found her strangely compliant. She did not struggle, make a sound, or show any sign of rebellion. The King watched the guards take her in with a smile of satisfaction on his face. It looked like the woman understood that she was his property now, and that there was no use trying to fight against her fate.

The King had told the guards to situate her in the dressing room, and to keep a watch on her in case she broke out in a temper.

The King entered the room to find it silent. It was so silent, in fact, that the King thought for a moment that the guards did not bring her to the room when he spotted her sitting on a plush chair in front of the room's only vanity. She was staring into the mirror in front of her, her half-shut eyes fixating onto her own reflection. The King slowly walked up to her. He bent down and whispered into her ear:

"Won't you sing for me?"

The woman did not move. She was gazing straight ahead of her, acting not only as though she had not heard him, but also as though she had not noticed him at all.

The King stood up. In a normal voice, he repeated, "Won't you sing for me?"

No response.

"Very well," said the King. He walked up to one of the vanity's drawers and opened it. "Perhaps this will change your mind."

The King reached into the drawer and pulled out countless strings of magnificent white globules, all of which sparkled and glinted under the bright light.

"These pearl necklaces could all be yours. All you have to do is sing for me. What do you say?"

She stared straight ahead. She did not even give one glance at the jewelry. The King put the pearls and diamonds back into the drawer. He folded his arms and examined the woman, wondering why she did not respond to his offers. In the end, he decided that her detachment was due to her weariness. The King exited the room without another word and told the guards to give her some food and a bath. She was a commoner, after all. Perhaps she might feel more inclined to sing after she felt more acquainted with her situation, the King thought.

–~~~–

The next day, the King returned to the bedroom, where he found the woman sitting in the same seat as yesterday. Unlike yesterday, however, she was looking much more prim and proper, due to her wearing some clean white robes instead of those horrible rags the traders forced her to wear. Her cheeks also had more color today, he noticed, and he could tell that she was indeed a beauty. Her thick locks of uniquely colored hair and buxom figure could have given her any man she wanted. She was lucky that the King wanted her.

Like the day before, the King walked up to the woman and put on a well-practiced smile that showed all of his glittering teeth. Then, with a flourish, he produced a small box from the inside of his robes and extended it out to her.

"For you."

When she did not move to take it out of his hands, the King took initiative and opened the box himself to reveal a glittering diamond ring inside. The gemstone was large enough to provide more than enough money a family would ever need if sold, and was pristine enough to make any jewel collector gaze at it in envy. Any woman would be tempted by such a treasure.

Except for this woman. Her eyes were still glassy and showed the same look of detachment as yesterday. If she was tempted, she did not show it. The King shut the box and placed it onto the vanity before heading back to the door, biting his lower lip. He told her before leaving:

"I'll be back."

* * *

The King was displeased. He watched the blood red wine swirl around his glass.

After offering a different array of jewels, dresses, and money to the woman for each day in the past week, he still was unable to get so much as a glance from her.

From all of his knowledge about human psychology, the woman was an anomaly. The King had never known anyone to refuse the allure of jewelry or coins, be it man or woman, noble or peasant. Any normal person would have caved in the first day, the King thought.

If riches didn't work, then he would simply have to resort to other methods – methods he never had to use until now, seeing how he bought his way through life. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Although he regretted this, he felt he had no other options. The King rang for his guards.

Once they entered, the King declared, "Throw her in the dungeon."

As the guards took her down into the cellar, the King planned his next move.

He felt sure that he would be able to make her crack.

* * *

The woman was bound in chains around her wrists and ankles, which were shackled to the stone walls of a cold jail cell. She hung her head down low, where her hair fell in front of her face. Most of the little light there was in the room was blocked by a round shadow. Above her, the King's voice demanded:

"Sing for me."

She stayed still. She looked like a rag doll; to the King, she looked pitiful. Although she had already been broken, she still resisted. Did she not understand that keeping silent was utterly futile? It was such a simple request; all he wanted from her was to hear her voice sing, but she absolutely refused to give it to him. It had been two weeks! _Two weeks!_ She was starving, drugged, and in a great deal of physical pain from all of the methods of torture the King employed on her. Yet, still she did not obey him.

"Why won't you sing for me?!" the King bellowed.

She did not speak. Instead, she simply shook her head, ever so slightly due to her waning energy. The King was shocked; this was the first time he saw her outright refuse him – the first time he saw her show any movement at all. Even though she had said not a word, her action conveyed enough impact to cause the King to slink down onto the floor in an unsightly, huddled mess of jewels and robes.

Why did she refuse him now? She clearly did not want to sing for him, he knew that ever since the first day she arrived. Was the reason for her silence because she wanted to keep him waiting anxiously in hope that she might choose to use her melodious voice? Or was it because of something else? He had showered her with gifts, baubles, trinkets, everything a woman desired, as well as incarceration to try and force her to comply. Not once did she show any instance of agreement or disagreement, but instead, she gave him glassy stares. She chose this moment to reject him, but why?

The King turned his head in the direction of his captive. Upon looking into her eyes, his own eyes widened; instead of having that glassy stare in her eyes as always, her eyes this time were something completely different. They were eyes completely filled with fire. He shuddered – he did not know such a hateful look could come from someone in such a dismal state. It was a look of pure passion, of pure volatility...

That was when he understood. He never broke her. All of his torture and attempts at bribery did nothing to her mind. If anything, his methods only strengthened her conviction. Her silence was her defiance. She would never sing for him. Never, after what he did to her that day at the slave market. She would stay silent to the end, even at the risk of death.

The King could not believe it. He, the most idolized being in all of his kingdom, was denied something that he desired. He, the great and noble King of immense wealth and power, was defeated by... a mere commoner! He could not accept it. He _would_ not accept it!

The King stood up; she did not move. Without a word, the King marched back up the cobblestone stairs and into his office, where he took a seat at his desk. He snatched up a piece of parchment from the side of his desk. With a nearby quill, he began to write at a frenzied pace.

Upon finishing his statement, the King tied up the parchment and arranged for it to be delivered immediately. What he had written was one of extreme urgency, as he had called for an immediate execution.

The King sat back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes and let out a quivering laugh. In a quiet voice barely louder than a whisper, he said:

"I've won."

* * *

When they took the prisoner out of her cell, the guards noticed that she did not seem the least bit traumatized about her sentence. In fact, they noted that she did not react at all. From the moment she was unchained to when the rope was looped around her neck, she did not say a single word.

That night, the woman with the voice of an angel took her last breath, in complete and utter silence.


End file.
